


Interlinked

by doctor_jasley



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic At The Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Steampunk, M/M, surprise dating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-20
Updated: 2012-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-31 12:32:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/344096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctor_jasley/pseuds/doctor_jasley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story about finding yourself in the most unusual way and new beginnings. Or conversely, a mildly steampunkish fic where Spencer doesn’t realize he’s dating Brendon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interlinked

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for bandomstuffsit in 2010

Spencer wakes up to his alarm trilling itself into crashing off of his nightstand. Strands of sunlight peek through the gaps in his bedroom curtains. He ends up having to kneel at the side of his bed when he finally rolls out of it just so he can fish the still trilling clock out from under it.

The clock keeps trilling, even after he has pressed down on the awake switch that usually cuts it off. If he didn’t need the damn thing to pull him out of sleep most mornings, he’d chunk it, but his mom refuses to wake him up anymore. It doesn’t matter that it’s the weekend and he has those free from work. He’s eighteen now, and apprenticed at the local carpentry shop, so in her opinion he is old enough to take responsibility for getting up on his own.

In a year or two, she’ll expect him to have found someone nice to settle down with. Usually by Apprenticeship year, most of the graduating teens have already paired off with their prospective marriage partners. Sometimes there are hiccups and people switch partners around with each other or fall into trio and quad unions, but normally everyone pairs up and stays that way. Spencer hasn’t really been looking. He’s not keen on the expectations that he has to marry to be happy. Plus he’s never really cared about most of his year mates, too caught up in being friends with Ryan to put much effort in others.

After some examination and drumming his fingers against the metal outer shell of the clock, it finally goes quiet and still in his hands. There is probably something wrong with the internal cog work again because of its fall. That means he’ll have to add going to the Mend Shop to his list of Saturday errands he has to run along with stopping by the market and dropping off some of the twins clothing to be patched for holes.

Spencer goes to place his broken clock on top of his rumpled bedding and stops because something rustles in the darkness underneath his bed. A tiny blur of gray and yellow catches his attention a second before a slinky mechanical kitten tackles him. She’s not one of the Marlow’s family pets because there’s not a bright purple collar around her neck. When he tries to place her on the ground she curls up in his arms and uses her surprisingly warm head to butt into the bottom of his chin softly. She purrs at him, sounding like a pleased and humming heater before blinking up at him, her eyes sliding from their once gutted oily yellow to a crisp shade of water blue, and slinking off of him.

She watches him as he dresses and Spencer’s not sure what to do with a stray mechanical kitten. Yet, for some reason he doesn’t want to get rid of her. Instead, he wants to know how she got under his bed and why. Going downstairs and dropping veiled hints gets him nowhere on figuring out where she came from. He’s pretty certain now though that his parents know nothing about her, so he picks up the bag with his sisters’ dresses and places his clock on top before heading out for the day. When he goes to shut the front door, the kitten slips through it and chink-slinks up his body until she finds the empty cocoon of his inside coat pocket and slips into it within a second of seeking it out.

He pulls his bicycle from the family bike rack and places his parcel of clothing and cogs in the sturdy front basket. The sun is bright up in the sky even though it’s still early and most of the town is probably inside still finishing their morning breakfasts. The kick stand gets disengaged, and Spencer’s peddling off to the market to grab his mom’s order of flour and cinnamon. If he gets there early enough he won’t have to wait around for an hour listening to Mister Pruitt try and push his single daughter on Spencer. Molly’s a nice girl, but Spencer’s happy with hanging out with Ryan at Sews Itself on Saturdays and whenever they’re both free.

After picking up the flour, but not the cinnamon because the new shipment was delayed again, and sidestepping Earl Pruitt, he walks his bike across the cobble stoned street to the Mend Shop. The kick stand goes down and he grabs the clock from its perch atop the fabric of his sisters’ dresses. Everything else gets left in the wire basket of his bike because no one really steals around town.

The Mend Shop’s bell tinkles and chimes some tune Spencer’s never heard before when he pushes the door open. He’s greeted by a cheerful hello from the person at the main counter and Spencer realizes it is Brendon when the other guy goes around the end of the counter and trips into a display of tube cleaners. Spencer can’t exactly remember a time when Brendon wasn’t accidentally running into things or randomly destroying houses of cards by just being near them.

Instead of frowning at the mess, Brendon just bends and starts picking up the strewn cleaners while laughing happily.

“So what brings you to the shop Spencer Smith? Patrick’s gone into Rasia for the day so if you need anything specialty he’ll be back on Monday.”

Spencer gets closer and hands Brendon his broken clock when Brendon stands up, after placing the last tube cleaner into position, and starts making grabby hands towards the hunk of metal.

“Stupid thing threw itself off my nightstand again and it wouldn’t stop trilling at me afterwards. I’m not even sure how I got it to shut up, shook it a couple of times before tapping it with my fingers. Hopefully, I didn’t kill it.”

Brendon looks from him to the clock and shakes his head before gently stroking the iron workings around the clock’s dull bell cups. He’s smiling when he speaks again.

“Spencer Smith I thought we were all taught in school not to mistreat our possessions. Clocks have feelings too, don’t you my friend?”

The last part is said directly to the clock and Spencer can’t help but shake his head and smile slightly. Brendon is something else for sure.

“I don’t think it’s going to answer you, considering it can’t speak and all.”

“That’s ok, I can tell he wants you to apologize for roughing him up.”

With that, Brendon holds the clock out to Spencer and makes ‘come on, just say it’ gestures with the damn thing.

“Brendon, I’m not going to tell my clock I’m sorry for it flinging itself off the side of my nightstand. And if I did, I’m pretty sure it is not going to care.”

Spencer mock glares at Brendon before letting a tiny smile slip. The kitten in his pocket starts to squirm around before poking her head out from her little hiding spot. Brendon snorts out a laugh, and goes back around the counter with Spencer’s clock in his hands without seeing her.

“You’re totally a spoil sport, you know that, and you’ve hurt your clock’s fragile little feelings, but fear not, I think I can fix him up for you. It might take till Monday evening though, since I’ll have to build his confidences up after you just shattered them.”

Spencer rolls his eyes and pets at the kitten’s wire and metal ears when she butts her head into his hand because she wants attention.

“I really don’t think the clock’s going to care either way, and that’s cool, I’ll just stop by when I finish up at the workshop around fourish.”

Brendon shrugs and makes a humming sound when he turns to set Spencer’s clock on one of the ‘pending work’ shelves with a work summary tag hanging from one of its iron legs. The kitten starts to jerkily try to climb her way out of Spencer’s pocket. She’s making these weird little wheezing sounds when Spencer gets her out of the pocket himself. Brendon turns back around the moment Spencer gets her to the counter and she scrabbles across the slick lyno of the counter top.

“I didn’t know you had a mechanical pet. Hell, I didn’t know they made kittens. Is she one of Frank’s friends from Tulia?”

Without even thinking about it, Brendon begins stroking the links of her metal spine and after a second she coughs up what looks like a shiny, blue marble before she quickly swallows it down again. The wheezing sound vanishes the second she re-swallows the marble and she starts purring for Brendon.

“I found her under my bed this morning. I have no clue where she’s from and I still haven’t named her. Nothing sounds right in my head.”

Brendon nods before listing ridiculous name after ridiculous name off. When he goes off on a tangent about how intricately she’s made, and how hard it must have been for her spine to have been fused together with the way the linking is constructed she nudges into his hand. After that, she squirms out from under his petting so she can get back to Spencer.

“You should totally call her Links. I think she’d like that name. Also, I got a half empty tin of gloss oil that she might like to sip.”

Spencer watches him rummage around under the counter for it before making a triumphant ‘Ah, hah’ and pressing a little nickel tin half full of greenish oil into Spencer’s free hand. The bell over the front door tinkles the same notes from before and Links crawls up his arm, back into her cozy little hidey-hole. Brendon greets Mrs. Sumors with a bright hello as Spencer waves bye and slips back outside.

His mom’s bag of flour is still sitting in the basket of his bicycle when he gets to it. The kick stand goes up again and he walks his bike down the sidewalk, passing half of the shops on Main Street before stopping in front of Sews Itself. The kick stand goes back down as he slides his bike into the public rack situated next to an elder tree. This time he takes the flour with him because the wire birds that live in the tree like to poke holes in his things if he leaves them in the basket.

Ryan waves when Spencer walks up to his table inside the shop. He’s got cloth measuring tape draped over his mauve and lime scarf and several red-tipped straight pins stuck into the left cuff of his starched, cream button down. The strip of cloth in front of him is embroidered within an inch of its life so Spencer snatches it before Ryan can add any more embellishments.

“I’m sure the little old ladies like having patches upon patches of roses creeping up and down their dresses, but I don’t think the honor guard will think that their sashes need the same treatment.”

Ryan flicks him off, before twisting in his chair to grab a shirt from his pile of ‘needs to be patched up today’ clothing.

“Ha fucking ha Spence. The sash isn’t for any of them. I’m getting a head start on marriage garments.”

Ryan coughs out the last part and tries to busy himself with pulling terracotta dyed thread through the eye of his favorite needle. The moment Ryan has the needle threaded; going to make the first stitch, Spencer grabs it from his hand.

“Wait, does that mean Jon finally asked to make things official?”

Spencer perches on the edge of the table and pokes Ryan, when he deftly plucks the needle out of Spencer’s grasp.

“Yeah, we’re going to visit his folks next Sunday and ask to set a date.”

Spencer leans forward and gives his best friend a tight hug before pushing off the table. He walks around to where he set his mom’s bag of patchings and the flour when he first came in and hefts the bag up to where he was sitting just a second ago.

“Mom needs these patched up for the Friday play date that the twins have with the Moore’s twin sons. Also she wants you and Jon to come over for Monday night dinner. She keeps saying you don’t drop by anymore and I’m totally not covering for you anymore.”

Ryan nods in agreement and Spencer spends the rest of his early afternoon in Sews Itself annoying Ryan and stealing his straight pins when they try to stage a revolt against Ryan’s cuff. The one time he tries to coax Links out of her pocket, she bites at his fingers and coils up tighter in the pocket. After that, he doesn’t try again. Maybe she doesn’t like people, which is ok with Spencer seeing as he’s not too keen on a lot of people either.

Around three Jon walks into Sews Itself, and Spencer considers that his cue to head on home to deliver his mom’s flour to her. Jon gives him a hug after Spencer congratulates him and Ryan on their final step towards partnership. Spencer says his goodbyes before grabbing his bag of flour and slipping out the front door.

Saturday night passes by without anything noteworthy happening. Sunday, however he wakes up feeling groggy and mildly under the weather. Links stays fussy with him all day, not wanting to touch her green gloss oil or be showed around to the rest of the family, always hiding away somewhere he can’t get a good grasp of her to pull her out. Spencer would swear that she had yellow stripes when he found her yesterday, but she’s got blue stripes now and when he tries to think back to what color her stripes were yesterday his thoughts keep getting mixed up on what color he might have seen.

Monday morning, Links wakes him up an hour earlier than his clock usually would by impatiently nudging her head under his chin. Once again she won’t touch the oil and he pockets it as soon as he’s dressed in his work clothes. He’s still feeling shitty. Links continues to be grumpy and agitated. Spencer ends up scooping her up when she mews at him instead of crawling up him to get to her perch placing her in the cavernous chest pocket of his work jacket with one quick motion.

Apprenticing at the carpentry shop is the same as ever. Another day sanding this table, and carving joints and wedges for that chair. Spencer doesn’t mind the routine of the labor. It’s just that sometimes he stops to remember, he always expected to do something else. Something more, but instead here he is meandering along doing the average normal thing. It makes him freeze every once in awhile to ponder why he feels like he isn’t living up to his potential.

At three fifty his shift ends, and Spencer shuffles out of the workshop. He’s too tired and blah feeling to ride his bike, so he walks it to the Mend Shop. When he enters the shop he finds Ryan’s mentor, Pete, pestering Patrick at the front counter. Some things never change, at least now the two of them are together and the old blue hairs can stop gossiping about them so damn much.

Patrick notices him and shuffles to the fixed shelving to pull off Spencer’s, hopefully, no longer broken clock. Pete continues talking to Patrick about some new type of fabric that’s supposed to absorb water like a sea sponge. Spencer drowns him out, paying more attention to how Links shudders in his pocket before trying to hide more when there is no more room in the pocket for her to curl into. She really doesn’t like people, but she’s not even eating and it makes Spencer worried. There is no telling how long it’s been since she’s had anything to keep her running.

On a whim, after paying and scooping up his clock, he interrupts Pete so he can ask Patrick where Brendon is. So far he is the only other person Links hasn’t been against knowing. Patrick points to the stockroom and nods that it’s okay before going back to trying to prove to Pete that no fabric could possibly be that damn absorbent.

The moment he pushes through the stockroom doors, Links starts to mew in his pocket. Brendon turns at the noise and ends up tilting off the box he was sitting on to count the drawer of cog cleaner tubes that was sitting in his lap not even a minute ago. Spencer doesn’t mean to smile, but he does. Brendon always seems to make looking like a klutz seem okay and natural instead of embarrassing and sad. 

It doesn’t take long for him to help Brendon track down the last of the tubes of cleaner, one somehow rolled itself right under the center of one of the massive stock shelves and Spencer had to use a broom to reach the damn thing. After that, Spencer glances up to find Brendon staring at him with a look on his face that Spencer can’t read. 

Links makes a fuss in his pocket, so he pulls her out. Brendon scoops her out of his hands and starts humming some sappy, but still catchy, pop tune to her while he spins in one full tight circle in the center of the stockroom. She doesn’t bristle or try to hide from Brendon. She just keeps mewing and pressing into his touch.

“Did she like the gloss oil, because I was just guessing and she looks a little starved?”

Spencer shakes his head and digs around in his pants pockets for the tiny nickel tin. It ends up falling out of his pocket on its own, smashing its top all up and beginning to leak everywhere. Brendon laughs before fishing for a handkerchief to clean up the mess with while Links pads her metallic little paws over his right shoulder.

“I guess my clumsiness is catching. Too bad my mad clock fixing skills aren’t that contagious. No one gets to be that lucky sadly enough. Maybe this time we’ll try some cog primer, it smells like wet socks but fills like a charm most times.”

With that, Brendon hands Links back to Spencer and starts to climb onto his sitting box to reach a metal basin filled with long grey looking capped tubes. He pushes them around for a bit before picking up a slightly smaller, beige one and jumping off of the box with a flourish.

“Ah Ha, knew we still had some of the old slim batch. It doesn’t work well on the cogs but the wire birds sure like it.”

Links stops chewing on Spencer’s sleeve cuff long enough to mew up at him questioningly when Brendon gets close. She stays in Spencer’s open palms but stretches out her slinky-ribbed neck to reach the rusted red color of the primer dabbed on the tip of Brendon’s index finger. Her shiny metal tongue flicks out to taste the goop and apparently she’s not adverse to it or the smell because she nips at Brendon’s finger when he doesn’t squeeze more out quickly enough for her.

Half of the tube vanishes before Brendon caps it, leaning forward in Spencer’s space enough to drop the primer into the pocket of Spencer’s work shirt. Links sleepily tries to crawl up to her pocket and Spencer gently places her next to the tube of primer. It’s probably past five by now and he needs to be over at Sews Itself to walk back with Ryan and Jon.

Dinner is crowded but entertaining. It always is when Ryan’s around and trying to con Spencer’s mom into giving him the last slice of pie. Jon keeps getting sidetracked in his conversation on the portrait industry by the twins, who start asking the wildest and most unusual questions ever. It’s fun.

Tuesday morning, he wakes to his alarm clock’s annoying trilling and Links makes an unimpressed sound from her sleeping spot on the portion of pillow right next to his head. Once again, she tags along with him to work. Her happy little purrs are really the only highlight of the day.

By Thursday he has to visit Brendon at the Mend Shop because Links tried to bite into the rest of the primer tube so she could feed herself. The tiny red mess it made bled through the fabric. He’ll have to drop by Sews Itself on Saturday and hope Ryan still has the bottle of stain solvent still hidden away somewhere.

The rest of September pours into October, and the rain clouds don’t stop rolling in for the first two weeks of the harvest month. It means Spencer has to peddle through murky rain puddles to get to work most days. Links stays curled up in her pocket, only coming out to investigate things when no one else is around or when they end up at the Mend Shop with only Brendon around to pet her and sing ridiculous radio tunes to the both of them.

Carnival week sneaks up on him, and Ryan’s too busy with alterations and spending time with Jon to have a free moment to go. It’s not like Spencer has gone to the Carnival in Rasia for the last two years because all the older folk keep trying to push him towards their single grandchildren. He still misses the whirl of colors and the thrum of happy music that flows from the Carnival itself though.

On Saturday, after stopping by Sews Itself to distract Ryan from getting too fixated on wedding plans, Spencer ends up sitting on one of the benches in the back workshop of the Mend Shop watching Brendon flit from fixing a choked up music box to working on tweaking a broken last century wind-up mouse into skittering about for Links to chase around. Brendon’s surprisingly fluid with his motions and isn’t clumsy at all when he’s absorbed with fixing things. It distracts Spencer from paying attention to the actual flow of conversation until he realizes belatedly that he’s bitching about how he doesn’t go to the Carnival anymore just to keep his sanity.

Brendon presses some wires back into the underbelly of the mouse and closes the panel before passing the little metal mouse to Spencer and asking him to wind it up. After two turns of the metal key, the mouse zips from his fingers to zig-zag across the uncluttered parts of the table, Links watching the mouse silently before starting to stalk after it. Brendon looks up from the music box and admits to never being allowed to check out the Carnival before and that he just didn’t have the time last year or anyone to go with this year.

Spencer’s known for forever that Brendon had strict parents, but to know that Brendon’s been living above the Mend Shop for almost two years and still hasn’t gone is kind of depressing. That thought’s the only reason he finds himself speaking again.

“Want to go with me tomorrow? The last day isn’t as crowded because of church obligations, but it’ll get packed later in the evening. Should still be fun though.”

Brendon grins up at him from over the now dismantled music box and Spencer has to remember to breathe for a second because Brendon’s grin is brighter than the sun. It makes him feel warm and pleased for some reason he can’t pinpoint. He pushes it away, instead of examining it, in favor of watching Links finally pin the little mouse down to the surface of the table. 

They spend the rest of the evening talking about the pros and cons of electric mechanics to that of conventional steam and coal powered mechanics. Brendon keeps slipping in tiny mentions of natural magic into the conversation like he’s hinting at something, but for the life of him Spencer can’t really catch on to what that something is. All and all, it’s a topic he enjoys prattling on about, and Brendon actually knows enough to be an active participant in the conversation. Ryan usually blanks out after Spencer starts in on the new developments in the area of light filamentation, staring off into the distance before making some weird comment about poetry subverting the norm in the seventh decade just to purposefully derail the conversation. 

The sun is starting to set when he finally leaves, and it’s fully dark by the time he slips through the front door. His mom’s not exactly happy that he’s late for Sunday dinner but she doesn’t say anything when he admits to forgetting the time while at the Mend Shop. She’s been oddly fine with him spending so much of his free time either with Ryan or at the Mend Shop pestering Brendon.

Sunday’s blustery but sunny, and Spencer dresses warmly for the chill. Links crawls up his arm and slides into her pocket when he puts his hand in front of her perch on his pillow. He takes a moment to make sure his wallet has credits in it before leaving for the day.

Brendon is sitting under one of the elder trees feeding primer grease to the wire birds when Spencer gets to the park on the other side of town. Brendon puts the grease away and shoos the birds off before clambering up to his feet. He ends up almost knocking his bicycle to the ground in the process. Spencer tries to hide his grin while he dismounts his own bike so he can help Brendon. After that, they’re off and peddling towards Rasia and the Carnival.

The rest of the day blurs and spins by in a vivid show of bright colors and loud energetic laughter. Brendon acts like one of Spencer’s sisters, running around with this giant smile on his face the whole time and tugging at Spencer’s hand when he wants to investigate something. It’s the most fun Spencer’s had in a while.

They end up in line for the rickety old steam-powered Ferris Wheel a total of four times. The first time, Brendon bounces against the bench of their seat enough to make them swish a little too much for Spencer’s liking. The second time, they get into a debate over the supposed cons of tacky cogs. The debate gets so heated that they’re not even paying attention when the wheel stops and the carnie has to glare at them to get them to hop out of their cabin so the next person can get in. The third time, Links pokes her head out of his coat pocket and traipses from his lap to Brendon’s before crawling into the left front pocket of Brendon’s hooded jacket and falling asleep. It’s ridiculously cute and Spencer finds himself smiling through the rest of the ride. The fourth time they ride, is because the crowd’s thinning out for the night and the lights are at their brightest. Spencer can’t pass up showing Brendon that. It’s one of the things he’s actually missed about not coming here the last couple of years.

The carnie gives them a weird little smile before locking the gate to their cabin. When they get to the top of the ride they stop and Spencer points out how the colored gasses trapped in the sturdy glass of the lights burn in an almost eerie way with the night chill causing their particles to swirl slower while the heat in the center makes them swim faster until they chill and the cycle starts all over again. Brendon leans against him and giggles like a little kid before moving even closer for a second with an expression on his face that Spencer can’t read. The cabin shudders into motion again though and Brendon scoots away, staring off to the side for the rest of the ride down. Spencer’s confused by the change in the atmosphere but pushes past it as soon as they exit the cabin.

Instead of leaving after their last go at the Ferris wheel, they end up at one of the picnic tables sharing a stick of pink wisp candy while Links ventures out from the pocket of Brendon’s jacket and starts to lazily stalk after the little toy mouse he pulls out and sets into motion. For once she’s not bothered by the few people milling around.

“I really don’t understand why you’re with the carpentry workers, Spence. You have no passion for it and a familiar who could care less about wood.”

Spencer looks up from watching Links finally run down the winding down mouse to shrug at Brendon.

“It seemed like something solid to do and I’m not bad at it… and wait…you said familiar. Only the touched have familiars.”

Brendon answers his shrug by tearing a tiny sliver of candy off of the stick and trying to get Links interested in it.

“How do you think your clock shut up, or that little mouse works? He could move without the wind-up if I took it out because you imbued him without meaning to. I’m not trying to impose Spence but you could be doing so much more if you’d just think about it.”

What Brendon’s saying does make sense but Spencer just shakes his head.

“Links doesn’t like anyone else but you. I’ve never heard of a familiar to be so standoffish. There’s no way she’d be up for being the familiar of a practicing touch worker if that’s what I am.” 

Brendon sighs when Links climbs up Spencer’s arm and slips into her pocket. The little wind up mouse jerkily goes over to investigate when he shouldn’t even be able to and Brendon drops the candy in front him. He spends the next three minutes saying nothing while he disconnects the wind up from the mouse with a pair of tweezers and a slim pick flathead driver. When he’s finished, the mouse skitters across his dropped hand and darts into the right pocket of his red jacket, the little metal key of the wind-up device lying forgotten on the table top.

“At least visit Frank and show Links to him. He’s good with all the mechanical animals touched or not.”

Before Spencer can reply, the live music switches to something energetic and Brendon grabs his wrist, tugging the both of them closer to the music. It’s a blatant attempt to change the topic and Spencer doesn’t fight it. After an hour of standing around listening to the festivities, Spencer’s able to drag Brendon away and they fish their bicycles from the main rack.

It’s extremely late, but the moon is full in the sky so it’s not hard for them to see on their way home. Brendon’s tired but he still challenges Spencer to a race back into town. Neither of them wins because they both end up so tired that they have to dismount and walk their bikes the rest of the way back. When they get to the Mend Shop, Brendon slides his bike into the rack and gives Spencer a very tight hug before fishing his shop key out of his pocket. Brendon says his good nights, thanking Spencer for the wonderful day and slips into the shop for the rest of the night.

When he gets home, Spencer trudges up the steps to his room, thinking about Links and magic as he goes. It would make sense if he’s touched. It used to run in the family, but for it to wait until he turned eighteen is a bit weird. The thought makes him warm and happy though, like maybe he’s finally figured out what his potential could be, but Spencer likes his routine, so he forgets about the fancy idea of skipping work in the morning in favor of visiting Frank’s Mechanical Magic Shop as soon as his head hits the softness of his pillow.

In a whirl, the days pass. Work picks up at the carpentry shop. Spencer forgets about the Feasting Holiday until his mom corners him before work the Monday before and asks him to invite Brendon over along with Ryan and Jon if they don’t already have plans with Jon’s parents over in Tulia.

After work he drops by Sews Itself to hang out with Ryan, and invite him and Jon to Feasting dinner on Thursday night. Ryan declines while stitching another embroidered lily onto the already covered crest of Jon’s wedding sash.

“We’re going to be heading to Jon’s parents’ house when I close up the shop tonight. Pete’s already okayed me holiday days through Friday even though we only got word finalizing everything late Saturday night. Tell your mom we send our love though and ask her to save me a slice of pie. She makes the best in all of the local districts.”

Spencer nods, leaning forward to snatch the sash from the table.

“I’m sure she’ll be glad to try, if dad doesn’t find it first. Also I’m not sure you grasp the whole idea of there being too many flowers on this sash. Jon’s going to look like a bouquet.”

Ryan gives him a mock glare before gently tugging the sash from Spencer’s fingers.

“For your information, Jon’s completely fine with the Lilies. Oh and we’re hoping to move the wedding up to the last full week in March, instead of the first week of April so Jon’s brother will still be around to be best man for him. You’re totally still up for being mine right? I promise to keep his parents from trying to set you up with anyone. ”

Spencer leans forward again and smacks Ryan on the back of the head lightly.

“Of course I’m still going to be your best man, you dolt. Who else is going to stand around and tell ridiculous stories about your childhood just to piss you off and make everyone else choke on their wine?”

Ryan glares at him again, this one being a lot less faker than the first one, and makes a rude gesture with his free hand. They spend a hour talking about second decade poetry, or well Ryan spends an hour talking about second decade poetry while Spencer thinks about the difference between rotator rods and linker rods and if Brendon would agree with his opinions or not. When the clock strikes six, he hugs Ryan bye for the night and goes to see if Brendon’s locked the front of the Mend Shop up yet.

Spencer ends up walking up the moment Brendon’s about to lock the front door. Instead of pretending to not notice him, Brendon pushes the door open and pulls him in by his coat sleeve before shutting and locking the door up for the night. After that, the window shades go down and Brendon starts to sweep the floor while Spencer follows, asking questions about linker rods as they move across the floor.

“If the linkers keep breaking, why do the melders still make them when a double jointed rotator will do the job just as well? Also not related to what we’re talking about, but mom was wondering if you’d like to come by for Feasting dinner, She makes a point of asking if my friends want to come over. I think she’s just happy that I’m not some cranky shut in. Ryan complains that one day I’m going to be one of those crabby hermits with fifty mechanical pets scattered about.”

Brendon stops sweeping long enough to bend down and pick up the metal dust pan, handing it to Spencer before starting to move again.

“I think it’s because the rotator rods are harder to mass produce and most of the bigger towns have at least one mender or can find a way to get to one that can weld the linkers back together. I don’t really know if that’s a good idea. I’m not good around parents, but we can’t have your mom thinking you don’t have some form of a social life. Luckily, It just so happens that my friend skills are about as boss as my clock fixing skills. I’ll be around here fixing up some orders for Mr. Pruitt since I don’t have anything else going on. Just knock on the door and Chester will come find me whenever everything’s ready.”

As they pass by the shop radio, Brendon cuts it on and starts to dance with the broom in time to the music that pours from the boxy speakers. Spencer grins and pulls Links from her pocket. The moment she’s out, she jumps from his palm and goes to search for Chester Mouse. The warm feeling creeps into his limbs again and Spencer grins at Brendon before using the dust pan and the little brush sitting in it to scoop up the tiny piles of dust Brendon keeps sweeping up. 

Everything is companionable and Spencer realizes he’s used to coming by after work just to help Brendon with cleaning up or fixing things. He doesn’t know what to do with that thought though, so he files it away for later examination. Brendon spins by him with the broom and almost tips into a display of restored steam toys. Spencer catches him by a shirt sleeve before he can collide with the display. Brendon beams at him for a moment and then goes back to sweeping in time to the music.

Monday night through Thursday morning flies by, and suddenly Spencer’s standing outside of the Mend Shop on Thursday evening nervous for some unknown reason. When he knocks there is a tiny twitch of movement in one of the shades as Chester skitters from his perch on the window sill and goes to fetch Brendon. Not even five minutes later, Brendon opens the shop door and steps out into the chilled November weather. He’s dressed in good Sunday clothing, all in shades of earthy tones without even a trace of wheel grease on his cuffs or his face, and Spencer’s chest gets tight for a second before he’s distracted by Links rustling around in her pocket.

She pokes her head out of the pocket and eyes Chester Mouse as he scurries up Brendon’s shoe and begins the quick climb up to the pocket of Brendon’s grey heavy winter coat. Brendon smiles at him and locks the shop door. They end up walking their bicycles most of the way to Spencer’s house instead of peddling. The conversation spans the spectrum of topics, and they’re playfully arguing over day cups as a universal given right of the populace when they finally get to Spencer’s house.

Spencer introduces Brendon to everyone and the twins giggle up at him before running off to their room to play with their dolls. Spencer’s mom somehow cons them into setting the dinner table together while she puts the finishing touches on the turkey and fixings. After that, dinner flies by. Brendon doesn’t accidentally spill his one glass of wine or drop his silverware under the table like Ryan is want to do on accident whenever he’s over. He’s polite, and by the time pie is being served he’s even telling dorky jokes that have Spencer smiling fondly at him.

When they’re finished helping his mom cleanup she pushes them out of the kitchen. They end up upstairs in Spencer’s room, sitting propped up against each other, watching Links chase Chester around in circles while the shiny little mouse taunts her whenever he can. They fall asleep like that.

Spencer wakes up Friday morning with a crick in his neck and Brendon smiling at him fondly. A second after that, Brendon shifts slightly and falls off Spencer’s still-made bed. He’s laughing when he stumbles up onto his feet. Chester’s ears twitch from his sleeping spot curled up against Links’ chest. Links mews a slightly irritated little sound before letting a squirming Chester scurry off to climb up Brendon’s now wrinkled pant leg.

Neither of them have the Friday after Feasting Holiday off, so Spencer starts to change the moment Brendon wanders downstairs for a glass of milk. Links grumpily lets him place her in his pocket and he heads on downstairs not wanting to go to the carpentry shop. As the days pass he’s slowly becoming more and more dissatisfied with his apprenticeship, but there’s not really anything he can do about it even though a tiny voice in his head pipes up that he could just go talk to Frank about Links and see where that could lead him. 

They leave Spencer’s house together, splitting up when the road forks, left towards the carpentry shop and right for downtown and the Mend Shop. The rest of Friday turns out to be boring and labor intensive. Spencer thinks about dropping by to see Brendon afterwards, but ends up being too tired and instead treads home, passing out on top of his still made covers without even eating dinner. 

November turns bitterly cold on the last day and the first days of December are greeted with about an inch of snow. The carpentry shop is drowning in Christmas requests. Spencer’s tired and grumpy when he trudges into the Mend Shop two Fridays after the Feasting Holiday. He fucking hates his job. Ryan had to take two hours with his special fabric tweezers pulling slivers of wood out of Spencer’s fingers earlier and Spencer should just go home, but something’s pushing him to visit Brendon so he goes with the flow and lets it.

Patrick waves at him from the front counter before pointing in the direction of the back workroom when he pushes through the front door of the Mend Shop. Brendon’s humming to himself while he buries his left hand in the innards of an antique bubble lamp. The sight is so normal that Spencer finds himself relaxing slightly. The moment Brendon looks up and smiles at him, Spencer starts bitching about hating wood work and fucking splinters. He doesn’t know why he hates carpentry so damn much now, he just does. There was a time when he didn’t really care too much either way about it but those days have apparently deserted him.

Brendon pulls his hand from the lamp and goes to his unevenly hung grey winter coat that’s precariously draped over the corner of one of the spare parts shelves.

“You really hate working there?”

Spencer nods.

“Yeah.”

“Fucking finally. Come on”

Brendon whispers the first part to himself while he shrugs on his coat and shoves his hands into his bright red gloves. The second part he says louder when he grabs Spencer’s wrist and drags the both of them out of the Mend Shop, waving at Patrick when they pass by the front counter. Once outside, Brendon starts walking in the direction of Tulia, but he doesn’t stop to grab his bicycle which means they’re probably not actually going to Tulia.

Twenty minutes of silence later, Brendon stops walking and Spencer looks up to find that they’re directly in front of Frank’s Mechanical Magic Shop. The place looks closed up for the evening, considering it is around five now and the sun is beginning to slowly hide for the night it’s an understandable assumption to come to. Brendon pulls Chester from the folds of his coat and places the little mouse on the sidewalk at his feet, asking him to go get Frank for him. Chester stays still for a second before zipping through a tiny hole in the brick work near the front door of the shop.

They wait for maybe three minutes in the chill, snow flurries drifting down to melt in their hair, before the shop door creaks open and Frank pops a goggled covered face out into the chill. He takes one look at them and pushes the door open wider, retreating back into the warmth of the shop a second after.

“Well if you’re coming in do it quickly. I think the snow is waging a plot to make me sick again.”

Frank calls to them, pulling off his goggles and tossing them on the nearest shop counter when he passes by, as they step over the threshold. Brendon turns and shuts the shop door behind them. Spencer’s pretty sure he hears the lock click, which is fine by him it is after hours for the shop.

The lighting is dim, the glass globe lights hanging from the ceiling only giving off a slight glow of yellow instead of an intense glare of white, but he can still make out the lay of the shop. There are shop counters lining the whole right side of the space, with an ancient looking register sitting proudly in the middle of the center counter top. Weird contraptions and wing filaments hang from the walls and shelves upon shelves of curios sit in the middle giving the place a cluttered but quaint vibe.

Chester scurries out from under one of the shelves and climbs up onto Brendon’s shoe. Links hears him and pokes her head out. She pays no attention to Frank and scrambles from her pocket to jump down, her metal paws making a thump when she lands on her feet. In an instant she’s slinking towards Chester, who pays her no heed and seems to be mocking her by combing his front paw through the loose wires poking up from the tips of his ears. Brendon laughs, shaking his foot to annoy Chester, who turns his little mouse face up to stare at Brendon before climbing up his leg. Links doesn’t even slow down, she just starts climbing up Brendon’s pant leg to continue stalking after Chester.

Brendon laughs again, this time squirming when Chester decides to burrow under the collar of his button down in an effort to hide from Links. Spencer is so caught up in watching Links try to follow the little mouse that he doesn’t notice Frank until he speaks, causing Spencer to turn around to stare at him.

“She’s yours right? That’ll be why Brendon brought you then.”

Spencer nods, and starts explaining how he found Links. Frank listens, bouncing on the balls of his feet sometimes or asking questions when Spencer says something he wants clarified. Frank walks off for a second and Spencer follows, watching him bend over the shop counter to rustle around in a drawer for something. Brendon shows up at Spencer’s side, Links on one shoulder staring at Chester who’s perched on Brendon’s other shoulder smoothing down the wire hairs of his ears again.

Frank pulls something from the drawer and throws it to Brendon.

“Since you’re here, do you mind tweaking the calibrator for me? I think we might need it in a bit for Charlie if I’m right.”

Brendon almost catches the calibrator but it fumbles out of his fingers, making a metallic thunk when it hits the shop floor. Frank just shakes his head and grins along with Spencer when he notices Spencer smiling at Brendon’s habit of not being able to grab things being thrown at him. Brendon bends down and picks up the calibrator, Links and Chester hopping off of his shoulders the second he’s closer to floor level. When he rises back up he mock glares at Frank.

“I hate when you do that. I might be good at mending the things you break with your crazy but I can’t fix something that’s smashed into little pieces. What would Mikey think if he knew you were throwing around Charlie’s heart like it was just a paper weight?”

Spencer tries to pay attention to the back and forth, but Frank hands him a beat up seventh decade tinker toy and everything blurs, breaking apart into funky distorts of prismatic color. He’s vaguely aware of his knees buckling, his back sliding down to rest against the glass of the counter side. After that though, he’s not really sure because his focus is solely on the little tinker toy and even then it’s almost like he’s trying to breathe underwater, everything slow and disjointed.

The soft touch of fingers pushing stray strands of hair away from his face causes him to jerk out of the haze. His first thought is that he probably needs a trim before he realizes that Brendon’s sitting right in front of him, close enough that Spencer could lean forward and. Do something. He’s not exactly sure what though, so he pushes the impulse down. If he doesn’t know what it is then it can’t possibly be important enough. Right? 

Brendon sighs and pulls a tiny screw wrench from his pocket. The tinker toy makes a metallic huffing noise before trotting from Spencer’s lap, where it was resting, to bridge the tiny gap in the floor that exists between him and Brendon. It nudges Brendon’s hand with its muzzle and Spencer realizes that the toy isn’t quite right, almost as if it’s weak and dying. There’s no reason he should know that, even if he’s always been aware of when Links needs Brendon to fix a miss-coiled spring or, more recently, when Chester needs a cog replaced.

The scent of Bamburry tea steams up in front of him and he’s belatedly aware that Frank is crouched next to Brendon, holding out a yellow chipped mug for Spencer. Brendon tinkers on the now wheezing toy and Spencer’s thoughts freeze when he mentally gets to the word tinker. Tinkerers can fix almost anything. It would make sense if Brendon turned out to be one, but a tinkerer is never alone because they always have a touched person at their side. Spencer’s never heard of any history where a tinkerer is without someone blessed with the touch. Not one. The thought of Brendon finding someone new to be around all the time makes his chest tighten so he ignores it in favor of accepting the mug of hot tea from Frank.

Bamburry isn’t his favorite flavor but sipping the cloudy, red-brown liquid is soothing. Spencer watches Brendon work over the rim of the yellow mug cradled in his hands while Frank bounces up to his feet so he can reach the ledger sitting on the counter above them, muttering something about figures under his breath as he goes.

Fifteen minutes later, Spencer listens to Frank explain imbuement to him, how a small selection of the touched population have the ability to give objects life, not just enchant them to do certain things. A person touched with imbuement also usually has an active yet shy familiar. As Frank keeps talking, things slot together for Spencer in a way that causes the rest of the Bamburry tea to slosh out of the mug. 

Brendon laughs, pocketing the screw wrench before jumping up onto his feet. The little tinker toy unicorn makes a disapproving snort and Spencer leans forward to pick it up. Charlie nuzzles into his hand and Spencer stands up kind of wobbly. His left leg is tingly from sleep and he can’t use his hands for balance since they’re both full. Brendon steadies him, a smile on his face that could brighten the whole room and Spencer’s sure he’s missing something important again. Frank shuts the ledger and the moment zips away like a tiny wisp of dust caught up in the wind.

By the time Brendon drags him out of the shop, Spencer’s got a new Apprenticeship and he won’t have to worry about nasty splinters anymore. A very, very small part of him is sad to know that he won’t be a carpenter anymore because it will miss the stability of the position, but on the whole he feels like maybe he’s finally on the right track even if it means he has to start over from the bottom up. Perhaps he should have listened to Brendon earlier.

The cold air is chilling on their walk back towards the middle of town and tiny flakes of snow dance down from the grey tinted night sky. When they get to the Mend Shop, their bikes resting against the rack, Brendon asks if he wants to stay the night. It’s getting far too cold as the hours slip by, so Spencer nods, he’ll send a wire bird to his mom when they get in. She’ll worry if he doesn’t.

There’s a note on the main counter. Brendon reads it to himself while Spencer tries to coax Martin from the ceiling struts. The wire bird is highly wary of Links, who likes to watch the flighty black bird with interest whenever she’s not chasing Chester around. Eventually Links jumps from her pocket so she can slink across the shop floor in pursuit of a smug acting Chester, and Martin flutters down from his perch. After that, it doesn’t take long for Spencer to attach the note to his mom. Martin stretches the wire of his wings twice and then takes off to the small message window high up near the ceiling.

Together they sweep the shop floor, Brendon dancing around all of the displays with the broom while Spencer follows behind him with the dust pan, and tidy up some of the parts displays before Brendon tones down the overhead lighting and they make their way up the stairs to the tiny living quarters over the shop. There’s a cramped sitting area melded with a slip of a kitchen, an array of colorful teacups set on the only counter. They end up propped up on Brendon’s bed, sitting on top of the nest of brightly stitched quilts piled high on the bed, talking about the history of mechanical guild work. Links curls up at the end of the bed with Chester snuggled up close to her chest. They fall asleep like that.

In the morning, he wakes up to the slightly untuned racket of a wire bird squawking from its perch on Brendon’s eighth decade chest of drawers. There’s a note hanging from its neck, so Spencer untangles himself from Brendon and grabs for the piece of parchment. Apparently Frank sent word to the carpentry shop that Spencer’s formally accepting a different guild path, and he’s all clear to start coming to the mechanical magic shop for work beginning on Monday.

Brendon makes a soft snuffling sound behind him, before shifting around and finally waking up. The sunlight peeks in through the blue curtains, painting the worn daisy rug at the edge of the bed in warm shades of gold. They have hot mint tea and Brendon bounds down the stairs while Spencer stays around to clean up their small mess. By the time he’s done, Brendon comes back up to inform him that Patrick’s giving him a free day, so Spencer decides to drag Brendon down to Sews Itself.

Ryan quirks an eyebrow at him when they show up at Sews Itself about an hour later. Spencer just arches an eyebrow in return and Ryan smirks at him, measuring lengths of gauzy lace while he does so. Spencer’s not sure what the smirk is for so he steals the spool of lace right out of Ryan’s left land. Brendon pokes him in the side and the spool shakes in his grip enough for Ryan to snatch it back with a victorious ‘ha’. Spencer turns to glare at Brendon for the dirty trick and Brendon just shrugs his shoulders and smiles brightly.

Ryan’s giving him this weird look when he turns back around but Spencer’s not sure what it means and shrugs it off. Links squirms in her pocket before peeking the tip of her nose out from the folds of his heavy winter coat. It’s the first time she’s ever had any interest in Ryan and before Spencer can think on it she crawls up and out of the pocket and leaps down onto Ryan’s work table. Her paws make a metallic clinking sound when she stalks towards the end of the lace that’s trailing from the spool in Ryan’s hands. 

Ryan watches her and the moment he lifts the spool enough to get the lace to wiggle she pounces. It’s actually the best possible way to slide into letting Ryan know that he’s switching his apprenticeship, so Spencer just goes with it. Ryan’s fingers still from petting at Links ears when he finishes.

“Your Mom’s going to kill you for not telling her sooner. I might help her. You can’t just hide being touched.”

Chester somehow worms his way out of Brendon’s pocket and catches Links attention. Ryan watches them bump into his supplies and forgets to stay mad at Spencer for not telling him. There’s no one else in Sews Itself at this hour but as soon as the evening rolls around it’ll be packed with the rest of the staff and towns people wanting their patched clothing before Monday morning. Links butts her head against the side of his hand and Spencer picks her up so she doesn’t have to climb up his clothing to get to her pocket. 

He’s going to have to tell his parents eventually, may as well get it over with. He says bye to Ryan and decides to head on home. Brendon follows him out of the shop and Spencer doesn’t know why he does it, but he asks Brendon to come with him. It would be good to have the support of someone who has pretty much known for months now. Brendon nods before smiling widely again and linking their arms together, trying to get Spencer to skip to the tune of “My Lady Adala” that he’s singing under his breath.

When they pass the Mend Shop their bikes get pulled from their slots in the rack and they’re peddling down the sidewalk. It’s cold and the sky looks like it wants to try for some more snow, yet somehow that doesn’t make their ride unpleasant. Brendon keeps laughing when he somehow finds a way to pass Spencer and it becomes a game of bicycle tag that ends with the two of them smiling at each other, trying to catch their breath while slotting their bikes into the rack that sits outside of Spencer’s house.

His mom’s in the kitchen checking preserves for freshness when they walk in. His dad’s sitting at the table reading the weekend edition of the local paper. His mom notices the two of them standing in the doorway and she glaces from him to Brendon, a bright smile forming on her face, before she asks if Brendon’s staying for dinner. Brendon looks at him and nods when Spencer smiles at him. It’s not like he’s going to ever be against Brendon staying the night. Plus it would do Brendon good to have solid meals that aren’t cobbled together suppers of dried pastas and seasonal fruits.

Spencer fidgets slightly. He’s not exactly sure how to tell his parents that not only is he changing profession tracks but that he’s touched and been hiding it since right after his birthday. Links stays curled up in the bottom of her pocket. She’s probably keying into his slight unease. Instead of trying to pull her out of the pocket, he goes for the slightly less direct approach and pulls out Frank’s message from earlier.

Brendon presses closer to him and hums something peppy and encouraging into his ear before straightening up when Chester finally finds a way to crawl out from the folds of his coat. Spencer’s never sure why Brendon takes ages to strip off his coat when he visits. Spencer always hangs his up the moment he comes in, and it’s not like this is the first time Brendon’s stayed over. Hell, it’s not even the twelfth time. If Spencer didn’t know any better, he’d think Brendon’s forever waiting for the moment when he has to leave. The thought makes him frown and he almost misses his mom hugging him tightly while chastising him for not telling them.

Links squirms in her pocket and carefully pokes her head out to investigate when his mom releases him. Chester watches from Brendon’s cupped palms, and jumps down to the tiles the moment after Links gains enough courage to leap to the floor, following after Chester the way she normally does. Spencer has to give his parents credit, they don’t even blink an eye at the display, and his mom just goes around the chase and back to her preserves.

After that, she puts them to work rearranging boxes in the attic for the rest of the evening. They end up talking about mass sparks and the history of fantasy tales. It’s an interesting conversation that pulls Spencer in, and by the time his mom calls them down for supper he’s completely lost track of time.

Dinner goes well. Brendon cracks jokes that make everyone smile. Everything’s comfortable and easy and Spencer wonders how he ever existed without this. Links shifts in his pocket and he loses his train of thought and forgets what he was wondering about. When they’re finished, the twins drag Brendon off to play with them and Spencer finds himself helping his mom clean up in the kitchen.

After that night, it’s like most of the proper pieces have slid into place and Spencer feels like he’s finally going in the direction he needs to move in, minus maybe one or two particular puzzle pieces he can’t seem to figure out . Frank’s shop sees a good amount of business and Spencer’s kept busy. He’s not sure if it’s the ramping up of the holiday season or if it’s normal for the shop to be busy from open to close almost everyday, but it’s exhausting and there are nights he ends up just crashing at Brendon’s place above the Mend Shop. They both of them passing out leaning against each other with rumbled covers still made still pulled up over the bed.

When Ryan figures out that he’s staying with Brendon, he stares at Spencer for a moment before asking if they plan on setting a date. Sometimes Spencer has no clue what Ryan’s talking about so he just shrugs it off and asks if Ryan’s going to bring Jon to the family Christmas party.

The days continue to have the same number of of hours populating them, yet somehow Christmas shows up quicker than Spencer expected. Ryan and Jon show up for the Eve, Eve party and Jon sets up his camera set, taking as many pictures as humanly possible. Brendon smiles most of the night. Sometimes he frowns and Spencer does his best to keep the bad memories away. Everyone in town knows that Brendon’s been on the outs with his own family for awhile now and Christmas is kind of a sore spot for him.

Ryan and Jon leave the next morning to catch a cab to Jon’s parents house. Brendon stays with them and sings carols until he leaves the day after Christmas. It makes the atmosphere cheery and bright so no one asks him to stop. After he leaves, Spencer’s cleaning up the tinsel that’s trying to weasel its way into hiding in the crevices of the living room floor when his mother corners him.

“Spencer James Smith. You ever going to tell Brendon that you like him, or are you content to just lead him on?”

He drops the dust pan and it clatters when it hits the floor, tinsel and dust bunnies doing their best to scurry away.

“We’re friends.”

His mom gives him the patented _I’m your mother I know what I’m talking about_ look before shaking her head.

“What happens if he decides to ask for placement in Grimal without you? He’s capable of getting approval without having to wait for you. Just think about it, ok?”

Spencer’s left to watch her wander back into the kitchen to put up the last of the Christmas cookware while the tinsel does its best to blend in with the cracks in the floor. He shakes his head, trying to dislodge the thoughts that are suddenly attempting to bloom in his mind, and goes back to sweeping up the shiny silver tinsel. They’re just friends. Nothing more, nothing else. Right?

That night, his dreams shift and change from bright colors to dreary hues. When he wakes up his heart’s racing and he’s sweating. Links’ blue eyes stare at him from her portion of the pillow, almost as if she hasn’t slept a wink because of his troubled nightmares. The muted blues of his new alarm clock bath his room in the shades of the ocean and Spencer spends the next three hours before the sun rises propped up against his headboard watching the slight glow from his clock ripple and flow across his bedroom walls.

Watching the clock doesn’t exactly calm him down, because it keeps him firmly thinking about Brendon and what little wisps of his dreams that are left lingering around in his waking thoughts. He’s partially confused about things now and pretty sure he might actually have feelings for Brendon, but he’s not really sure where Brendon stands. And what if Brendon’s not on the same page as he is? Spencer shakes his head, and watches the muted blues shift to golden yellows as the sun slowly starts to wake up. He wants to take the clock as a clue because who would build an extremely personalized Hue Clock for someone they don’t care about, but then if Spencer could he’d probably build one for Ryan and Jon, so he’s not sure if his thought holds any validity.

Links butts her metallic little head against his chin and he pulls himself out of his musings, sliding out of bed and changing for work. Frank probably won’t mind if he’s a little late. Mikey always opens the shop up for him anyways, which means Frank won’t amble down from the apartments over the shop till after nine or ten am and Mikey will tousle his hair and poke him before pushing him towards his work. Sometimes Spencer’s amazed at how well the two of them work together. It always makes him wonder if eventually he and Brendon could do the same thing. Until this moment he hasn’t actually put much more stock into that thought than how cool it would be owning a shop in some decently steady town with Brendon next to him fixing anything he might accidentally break. Now though, he’s starting to wonder if there’s maybe a bit more to why he likes the idea of the two of them setting up shop somewhere.

January is slower than December, probably because everyone is still winding down from the Christmas season and starting to think about Valentine’s Day. Like every other major holiday, Valentine’s Day is hugely popular and usually Spencer just pays no attention to it, going on about his usual business, even though his mom tends to frown at him and hint about him finding someone, and several of the older women around town try to set him up with their single children or grandchildren.

This year though, he spends most of January lost in thought, instead of trying to talk people out of setting him up for February. It doesn’t help that Brendon receives a letter the second Monday of the month that makes him smile and bounce until Spencer asks him and Brendon deflates a little and won’t tell him about the letter. By Friday, he’s finally able to corner Brendon and get him to talk about the letter. And by then Spencer wishes he’d never asked because Mikey’s brother, who lives in Morrow, wants Brendon to move out there and apprentice as a junior Tinkerer under him.

When Brendon tells him that he’s going to write back and decline the offer, Spencer’s elated that Brendon’s not going to leave him, but he also feels mildly uncomfortable because Brendon deserves to have an opportunity like this. However, every time he tries to talk him into leaving his tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth and he just can’t do it. Frank corners him the Monday after and calls him on his bullshit. He tells him to own up and contact Gabe in Morrow to see if he has a position available, because if Gabe’s up for it Spencer doesn’t have to be a dick and he can go with Brendon. After that, Frank stares him down and says ‘for the love of everything good in the world, tell Brendon that you like him. There’s no way he’s going to turn you down. He’s head over heels in love with you and it’s getting ridiculous ’

So Spencer sends a wire bird off to Morrow and hopes for the best while trying to keep Brendon from replying to Gerard’s letter with a hastily scrawled no. It’s not hard to do, mostly because he’s not the only one doing their best to keep Brendon occupied and not thinking about Morrow. Frank and Patrick keep giving him tasks to mull over and Spencer drags him away from both of the shops in the evenings after work. They usually end up either watching the clock work ducks waddle across the faded grass of the park, Brendon somehow coaxing them to eat tiny stripped screws from his cupped palms, or hanging out with Ryan and occasionally Jon, when he’s not off running errands for the Photography Studio. 

The last day of January rolls in stormy and mucky, and a wire bird slams into his shoulder hard enough to bruise when he’s walking in the direction of work. The momentum of the impact pushes Spencer to the ground and the bird crumples to the sidewalk, one wired wing twisted and bent at an awful angle and its beak smushed in and dented to the side. It’s seizing and flailing it’s unbroken wing against the sidewalk’s hard surface, a low and pained cawing keen escaping from it’s hollow throat with every thrash, and Spencer scoots forward enough to trail cautious fingers across the rain slick surface of its spasming back. Purple and amber eyes blink up at him, and the bird does its best to not move as he gingerly scoops it up into his hands.

Spencer can calm the wire bird down and ease the pain some, but he can’t fix it so he makes his way towards the Mend Shop. Today is one of the days that Brendon opens the Mend Shop and switches over to Frank’s shop later on in the evening. If there’s anyone that can help the poor thing cradled in his hands it’ll be him.

By the time he shows up, he’s soggy and his hair’s plastered to his face.The wire bird chirps low from where he’d had to bundle it up in portions of his coat so it wouldn’t drown, Links peering out with sad eyes to keep watch while Spencer did his best not to run into any of the few people out and about during the dreary early morning weather. The shop’s warm and dry when he pushes the door open, the bell chiming something muted but happy at his entrance, and the shop’s empty except for Brendon sitting behind the back counter with a cog radio broken apart across the surface of the counter top.

Brendon smiles brightly from his spot at the counter and Spencer smiles back because, ok, maybe he’s finally embraced that he likes Brendon. If only his tongue would decide it’s the right time to ask him out. Ryan had sort of tilted his head and laughed at Spencer when he’d noticed Spencer stammering something out in front of Brendon earlier in the week. He’s working up to it, and maybe he’ll be able to say something before Brendon finally decides to say yes to Gerard and ends up traveling north to Morrow.

The wire bird flutters in the folds of his coat and Brendon’s smile turns down into a frown when he hears the wire bird chirp.

“Hey, Spence everything ok?”

Spencer nods and carefully places the wire bird on a semi clean portion of the counter when he finally walks up. Brendon slides the rest of the radio parts to the edge of the counter, several of the bits and bobs cascading off onto the floor behind the counter, before ever so slowly trailing one of his fingers down the wired joints of the wire bird’s broken wing. Sometimes Spencer forgets how Brendon is around the mechanical animals and it always slams into him, just how much Brendon cares about these mechanical things that most people only see as machines around for their needs or aesthetics.

“What happened?”

Brendon looks up at him, hands scrambling to find the proper tools while doing his best to calm the bird down, soothing words barely slipping out from his lips in a whisper that Spencer can barely hear. 

“He flew right into my shoulder when I was on my way to Frank’s shop this morning and must have twisted everything when he fell.”

Spencer shrugs and the motion makes him wince because it jostles the bruise forming across the front of his shoulder and chest. Brendon looks up at the noise and asks him if he’d put up the ‘sorry busy’ sign and lock the door. By the time he’s finished, Brendon’s bundling the broken wire bird up and shuffling to the back work room.

The rain outside pours down, and Spencer listens to it hammer over the tin roof of the Mend Shop while zoning out watching Brendon do his best to help the wire bird not be crippled for the rest of its days. He doesn’t even know he’s talking until the sound of a screw wrench dropping onto the heavy surface of the work table pulls him out of his musings about love and life. It takes him a second to back track through his thoughts enough to figure out what he just said that would be causing Brendon to stare at him with hopeful eyes.

When he figures it out, Spencer wants to bang his head against the wall he’s propped up against. Not out of shame or because he shouldn’t have said what he did, but because he’s been envisioned telling Brendon that he likes him in so many different ways the past couple of weeks, and none of them have included this scenario. If Brendon’s clumsy with his steps then Spencer’s clumsy with his words. Ryan’s going to die from laughing his ass off when he finds out.

Brendon smiles at him and goes back to splinting the wire bird’s fragile wing. Words trip off his tongue as he goes about working.

“I should have know, all I needed to do was get you out of your head enough. You always say what you want to say when you don’t even realize you’re holding a conversation with someone. Just so you know, you could have said something months ago. I like you too and, man, I don’t know if I could have been more obvious. I think your mom was about ready to lock us in a closet and see what happened.”

Spencer starts smiling widely by the time Brendon’s admitting to liking him back, and Links crawls out of her pocket to curl up in his lap, purring happily like everything has finally finished slotting into place. She’s probably right. He scritches her ears and watches Brendon finish up the splint. When he’s done ,Brendon sets the groggy little wire bird on a steady shelf to rest while the resin dries on it’s resculpted beak, and he comes over to Spencer, sitting down beside him in an unsteady motion.

A crumpled letter floats into his lap and Spencer unfolds it enough to read it. The letters flow in eccentric script and it’s a reply from Gabe telling him that May’s a good month if he wants to apprentice with him. Of course the letter isn’t short and sweet like that. It’s chatty and by the time he’s finished reading Brendon’s staring at him with that hopeful expression plastered all across his face again.

“We could always go together.”

Spencer nods.

“I’d like that.”

And suddenly they’re kissing and it’s one of the best things ever, even if the angle’s awkward and it’s apparent that neither of them have any experience with kissing. Links meows happily from his lap and Chester scurries up his pant leg to burrow into Links chest, chittering excitedly as he settles. Spencer smiles and kisses Brendon again.


End file.
